


Little Indulgences

by sam_ptarmigan



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Cock Worship, Deepthroating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam_ptarmigan/pseuds/sam_ptarmigan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin is not entirely certain how he ended up propped up against a tree with his trousers down and Dori kneeling in front of him, but he's pretty sure good things are about to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Indulgences

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LJ hobbit_kink meme.

"The thing is," Dori was explaining to him, "that a fellow grows accustomed to town life—to all those little indulgences that are so hard to come by on the road."

Under other circumstances, Dwalin would not have been entirely listening to this prattle. As it was, he did not entirely  _understand_  it, but he was listening very hard, because Dori was currently on his knees in this shady little copse, mouthing at the front of Dwalin's trousers.

"Wine," Dori sighed. His lips traced the outline of Dwalin's cock as it swelled and lifted. "And sweets..."

Dwalin shifted his grip on the handle of his hammer, which was propped up beside him as he leaned back against a sturdy tree some ways from the camp where the company had settled in for a day of hunting and foraging.

"Not to mention fine linens and silks," Dori said. His questing mouth found the head of Dwalin's cock and sucked firmly at it, dampening the fabric. "I had to leave my best cloak and all my nice shoes behind."

Dwalin was still a little confused as to exactly how this situation had arisen. He vaguely recalled grunting his acquiescence when Dori had asked him if he wanted some tea, and when Dori had asked him if he wanted some bread, and at one point there was a question about whether he wanted his sword polished, and before Dwalin could point out that he did not fight with a sword, he was already being led off by his belt into the shelter of the trees.

Dori's tongue darted between the buttons of Dwalin's placket—a surprisingly dexterous teasing of wet heat. Then, with Dwalin's full attention, his glance flitted upwards. "Do you take my meaning, Mister Dwalin?" 

He wasn't certain he did, but he had a feeling that the correct response was to nod very seriously and in good haste.

A smile lifted the corners of Dori's lips. "Good."

Quick fingers made short work of his buttons, and then Dori was carefully drawing out his cock. Dwalin hardened with alacrity as Dori's warm fingers brushed along his length, seemingly taking his measure. There was none of the usual flicker of alarm or envy, but rather what looked very much like a greedy glint in Dori's eyes.

"This will do," Dori declared. Then he cupped Dwalin's fulsome stones and rolled them speculatively in the palm of his hand.

Dwalin grunted in pleasure, his cock standing up even straighter.

"Quite large, these," Dori said. "Do you sow very much seed, do you find?"

This was asked in the same tone of voice with which he might have inquired whether Dwalin's coat was adequately warm, or if he thought it might rain. 

"Er," Dwalin said, not at all used to being at a loss for words—or, for that matter, being interrogated about the quantity of his spunk. "A fair bit?"

It was the right answer, apparently, as that particular glint returned and Dori licked his lips slowly before setting his hands primly upon Dwalin's thighs and leaning in.

* * *

The alluring scent of musky sweat drew Dori forward. Dwalin's thighs were like stone beneath his hands, and his lovely, oversized cock strained to full length as Dori licked hard along the shaft, tongue pushing against the large vein that rose from its base.

Yes, this would do very nicely, he decided as he charted every inch of it with his mouth until it was stiff-straight and glinting. The stretch required to wrap his lips around the head made his eyes shut in pleasure. He hardened quite readily at the weight against his tongue—the strong, salt-tinged taste of it—and then the bulge at his cheek as it pressed in askew.

He sucked at it, lips moving gently in worshipful appreciation until his jaw had eased. A little more, a little more—drawing it inside inch by delicious inch until the ample head pushed at the back of his throat. 

Dori's fingers traced the length still remaining between his lips and the base of Dwalin's shaft. The distance was unacceptable; he wasn't one to let anything go to waste. 

He reached down and got his hand into his own trousers, teasing himself with feather-light fingers as his mouth worked at the sizeable challenge. Head slowly bobbing, he took Dwalin's cock as far back as it would easily go and then retreated, his lips drawing tightly around the head and his tongue laving attention upon the soft, smooth glans. It drew a low, appreciative moan from above and a hard exhalation as he teased at a taut frenulum.

His own breath quickened in anticipation as he steeled himself. One more pass, then two, then three—and then he was greedily sucking in even more, and the head of Dwalin's cock was pushing past the tight collar of his throat with an obscene 'pop'.

Dwalin let out a shocked cry, and his hips thrust forward. Dori choked with a wretched gurgle that did little to droop his own arousal, and he shoved Dwalin back against the tree to the faint cracking of wood—or possibly bone.

He pulled off, his mouth flooded with saliva, which he spat out crossly onto Dwalin's cock. 

"A little  _restraint_ , if you will," he said sharply, his voice slightly hoarse. He hoped the threatening set of his eyes made it clear that his bolas would be making an appearance if Dwalin proved himself to be a delinquent thruster, or a hair-musser, or worst of all, an ear-puller.

Dwalin was flushed red between beard and cheekbone, but that had nothing on the almost desperate purple that had suffused the head of his cock. Spit dripped from it, and not a little pre-ejaculate if Dori's eye was correct. 

"Sorry." The word was rushed, but it sounded appropriately contrite. Dwalin pressed the hand not clutching his war hammer against the tree in a show of forbearance.

"Thank you," Dori replied graciously. The tip of his tongue darted out to catch a stray trickle of saliva at the corner of his mouth. "Now let's try that again."

He set himself to Dwalin's impressive stones. They were heavy and well-furred, and it took a wide gape to draw one gently into his mouth and cradle it atop his tongue.

Dwalin made a sound like a pair of broken bellows, and both of his hands visibly clenched.

Dori sucked gently at one stone and then the other, tugging them down with careful lips when they tried to draw up. He licked his way back up the shaft, rather delighted to find it sticky with quite a copious drip of pre-ejaculate that tasted like bitter honey wine. 

Oh yes, Dori thought as he eagerly lapped it up. Dwalin would give him a good mouthful indeed, and at the thought of a plentiful spending sliding down his tongue and spilling over his lips, he could delay no longer. The head slipped into his mouth, and he took a deep breath before forging on, taking it in deeper and deeper—past the half-resisting gateway and fully into the tight grasp of his throat.

"Oh!" Dwalin cried. His hips behaved themselves, but his head slammed back hard enough against the tree to dislodge a scattering of bark.

Dori was too far aflame to indulge in much smugness. His hand moved quickly around his own cock as his nose buried itself in a warm thatch of coarse hair. He drew back slowly, moaning at the thick, choking press of it. 

Dwalin trembled at the vibration, and his hand lifted—

A sharp glance upwards was warning enough, and Dwalin with an air of great effort momentarily stilled his hand before very politely stroking one of Dori's braids. 

Most acceptable.

Dori rewarded him with his full consideration. Not an inch or a quarter-inch went unattended as he smoothly sucked Dwalin's cock from girthy base to leaking slit. He took it into his throat again and again, swallowing around it and eliciting harsh, uneven breaths and rumbling groans.

His own breathing came just as roughly as his mouth was well-plundered. He would be rasp-voiced for a day, he was certain of it, and yet he forced his throat open on every stroke, drooling now, tugging hard at his own cock as he tasted the sweetness of another generous rush of pre-ejaculate. 

"Nearly there," Dwalin muttered raggedly, his fingers petting Dori's hair more urgently now. "Ah, nearly—"

Dori's hungry whine was thoroughly muffled as he took Dwalin in to the very hilt. He gulped around it, saliva overflowing and trickling into his beard. Then he drew back one final time, his throat sore and shuddering, and the first salty spurt upon his tongue drove his own spending from him with another muted cry and a most delectable quiver.

* * *

Dwalin felt his knees give an alarming tremor as he came. He clenched his teeth against the triumphant shout that rose up within him, and his head slammed back against the tree again with a satisfying thump.

Dori's hands joined in, urging him on, and Dwalin moaned when he realised that Dori had not let him spend down his gullet but in his mouth because he was intent on  _tasting_  the results. It had been a fair while indeed since Dwalin's stones had been emptied, and Dori let slip what sounded like a delirious whimper as two pumps of it became five, then ten, flooding his mouth. Dwalin could feel the slick slide of spunk between his cock and Dori's clever tongue, and then there was a little sputter and the pearly stuff dribbled over Dori's reddened lower lip.

"Let me see?" Dwalin asked, his breathing as rough as a rockslide and his fingers stroking beseechingly at Dori's jaw, over a beard that was nearly as soft as a maiden's. 

Dori opened up wider. Past the ruddy head of his own cock, Dwalin glimpsed a pink tongue dripping with creamy mess, and the sight brought one last hard shot from him.

He sagged back against the tree as Dori fixed his lips around him and sucked hard, as if chasing down every drop. His knees trembled again at the unmistakable sound of a hard, wet gulp.

His eyes fell shut. It took some time for his breathing to calm, not least when Dori insisted on softly mouthing at him and licking every inch of his cock until the iron went out of it. Cool air and the whisper of soft motion eventually brought him back to himself. He opened his eyes to find Dori back on his feet, fussily dabbing at his lips with a handkerchief. 

Dori's gaze flicked over him. "Don't let me keep you," he said. 

Dwalin had never heard someone manage to sound both plummy and frog-throated at the same time. He pulled his trousers back up and watched as Dori unerringly readjusted the braid that had been pulled awry.

"Aye," Dwalin said uncertainly. "Well..."

He still wasn't certain exactly what had just happened, nor did he ever find out the precise circumstances that had sparked Dori's interest. Yet for the rest of the day, and the days to follow, he elected to keep his coat unbelted whenever possible, with the bulge at his placket on full display, just in case the spirit might happen to seize Dori again. 


End file.
